The Dance
by Maetel
Summary: Based loosely on the song The Dance, and set during The Christmas Invasion, Rose finds herself thinking back to her life with the Ninth Doctor.


Rose sat in her room, staring out the window of her room. Jackie had one of her CD's playing. Some dance song that was too peppy for its lyrics. The sun was setting but a part of her didn't even notice.

Her eyes shone with silent tears as she thought about the turn her life had taken. The Doctor. Her Doctor was gone. He'd disappeared and left her with a stranger. A rude one at that who seemed a bit touched in all honesty. The man said he was her Doctor, regenerated. Just a new face and look, but still the same person.

She couldn't see it though. The way they moved was different. He was too spastic. He was too think. Too… not him.

She thought back over the time she'd spent with the Doctor. She'd fallen for him the minute he took her hand. She would never admit it openly, but it was true. Even Jackie and Mickey seemed to have noticed. Mickey seemed to want to refuse to let go, though. Not that she blamed him. He'd lost his family, including his grams. Why would he want to lose anyone else?

But she left anyways. The pull of traveling through time was seductive, made all the more so by the dark stranger in the battered old leather jacket and ever present dark toned jumper. He looked older, but there was something about him that made her drawn to him like a hummingbird to some sort of flower.

Maybe he'd felt that way about Jabe. Rose had to admit that she was jealous of the way he seemed attracted to her, but how else could she feel? He was all she had at that point. Her world was being destroyed, and she'd yet to learn about his. From that moment, he was her Doctor. He was the one who saved her life and took her hand as she watched everything she'd known snuffed out by the dying sun.

The blonde crossed her arms over her chest, sniffling a bit. She wasn't sure how she felt as she remembered the evening she called "their first date." The memory was a happy one, but to know that there wouldn't be any more chips shared. Any more pops out of the TARDIS to grab a bite. She'd never hear "Fantastic" chirped again in that amusing Northern accent.

The sounds of the door opening and closing, drug Rose from her thoughts. She stepped out of her room to see who'd entered, only to find Mickey shrugging off his coat. He looked over at her, only to see her step over and into the room the Doctor was sleeping in. He walked up behind her and looked at him.

"Is he getting any better?" Mickey asked.

Rose shrugged. "I dunno. I can't tell. Would you be able to tell if an someone with two hearts, not to mention a completely different body structure, was doing better?" She knew how that sounded, but couldn't bring herself to apologize. She wondered if this was how he felt during the year she'd missed.

He'd seemed so broken when he'd seen her after her first return. She had finally gotten a taste of how much she'd hurt him when he told her what his feelings had been after admitting he'd been seeing Trish. She'd been jealous, but not hurt. Well, not as much as she thought she should have. Only a few months had passed for her in that time. Over a year for him. He still seemed to want her, but… She could still clearly recall the way her thoughts had stayed with the Doctor during Mickey's admission. She hadn't even felt regret for anything until he'd left that night. The night the rift had been almost torn apart by the TARDIS and the Slitheen's interference.

She drifted over to the chair that her Doctor's jacket had been laid on. She ran her fingers over the material, biting her lip to keep from crying. She wanted to do more than that though. She wanted to scream at the stranger to give her back the person she knew. To give her back the person she would sacrifice everything for.

He couldn't though. He said that himself. She'd never see him again. Not with that beautifully daft old face with the slightly large proboscis and dumbo ears. She'd never see those eyes again. The manic look in them when he was trying to hide the pain he felt. When he was trying to ignore the way he felt when he thought about the war.

The dam broke as she thought back to the way she'd almost lost him in Van Statten's facility in 2012. She hadn't made it in time, and she could still recall the way his voice sounded after the Dalek had fired. She could remember the way she felt when she thought that she'd lost him to the lust for revenge he held for the remaining Dalek.

He'd changed that day. So had she. He was more open, and she was in love. She'd never told him. She couldn't. He was different, but he was still so distant. She felt inadequate. What was the affection of a 19 year old to someone who was almost a millennium old? She wished she'd said something now. Anything.

Such was hind sight. Now all she could do was hope that this stranger would recuperate. That he'd survive. That he'd help her find a way to see him again.


End file.
